Things I Do at School: Independence
by Pumpion
Summary: A little USUK thing I wrote in English as an allegory. I don't really know how to summarize it other than a horrible attempt at an allegory about the American Revolution by a non-American. Platonic USUK


**More fanfiction I wrote in school, this time: Hetalia! My English class had to write allegories, so I tried to write one about the American Revolution because, USUK, am I right? Anyway, sorry it's not the most accurate, I am not American and had only a few days to research, write and submit it to my teacher.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

Arthur Kirkland wrapped his green trench coat closer to his body in an attempt to conserve body heat, which was crucial on a cold, snowy English day like this. Breathing on his gloved hands, his breath visible as an almost mist, he continued his way down the street to his small yet heated house, yearning for a warm cup of tea and a blanket near the fireplace.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, when a small boy, no older than 4 years old, cried out in fear, his exposed fingers starting to turn the faintest shade of blue. He wasn't bundled up half as much as anyone else, his clothes hanging off his starving form, eyes wide and shining with tears, more streaming down his hollow cheeks.

'Are you alright?' Arthur said to the boy, who looked up with his cerulean blue eyes into Arthur's emerald green ones.

'H-help,' was all the small boy could muster, and Arthur realised that this boy was completely alone, with nowhere else to go. The child held out his hands like he had his whole life in the hope of a quarter, or maybe even a dollar.

Arthur's heart nearly shattered at the sight before him, and he took the boy's small, shaking, freezing hands into his own large, gloved, warm hands. 'How about I give you some tea and something to eat,' he said gently, 'what is your name?'

'A-Alfred,' the now-named boy stammered, in shock of the man's kindness, and his shock only grew when he was lifted up with too much ease and placed on Arthur's back. 'Alfred Jones, mister.'

'Alfred. That is a strong name. My name is Arthur, Arthur Kirkland,' he said, and continued his way towards his house.

Years passed since that day, and now Alfred Jones had grown from a too skinny, too cold boy on the streets into a handsome, strong young man. He sat by his bedroom window, thinking about what his future help, and potentially moving out of home. He had decided yes, that was the best way to go for his future, when he heard the front door open and close.

'Artie!' Alfred burst out of his bedroom and sprinted down the stairs to hug the other blonde, his cowlick, which he called 'Nantucket', bouncing as he ran.

Arthur was shocked by the impact, and awkwardly patter Alfred on the back. 'Hello, Alfred,' he said, breathing deeply when he was released.

'Dude, I'm hungry,' he said. He had nearly said 'starving', but remembering his past, he felt it would be wrong to use it to describe his current level of hunger.

Arthur only nodded and shrugged out of his coat before making his way to the kitchen. Looking in the cupboards, he frowned slightly. 'Alfred, you are awfully quiet,' he said, 'is everything alright?'

'Yeah, dude,' Alfred replied, grinning.

'Arthur's frown deepened, suspicious that something was up as he moved over to the fridge. 'Alfred, are you sure? Did you break something again?'

'No…' he sighed. Alfred couldn't keep his thoughts from his guardian forever. 'Artie, dude, I've been thinking. Crazy, right? Anyway, I wanna move out.'

Arthur froze where he stood, in the process of collecting vegetables for stew. Slowly, he turned towards Alfred, his emerald-green eyes wide with shock. 'What?' he asked quietly.

'I wanna move out,' the blue-eyed boy repeated, 'I want to see the world outside of England, start a life of my own.' Alfred grinned.

'No,' Arthur whispered, before his voice grew louder, 'no! Alfred, you're not ready to live on your own! You're too young!'

Alfred was not expecting this kind of response. If anything, he was expecting support, help, anything other than Arthur's current response. 'But Artie, it's not like I'll never see you again! I'm still gonna visit you!'

'You are still too young! You're barely 20!' Arthur tried his hardest not to raise his voice, but by the end of his sentence he was roaring.

Alfred flinched at Arthur's raised voice. 'Prove it,' he muttered, 'prove I'm too young, Artie. I dare you.'

Sighing heavily after coming home from a long day at work, Arthur made his straight to the kitchen for a cup of soothing, hot yea. What he found as he looked in the china cupboard, however, was shards of china, smashed teacups, now useless. On the ground was Arthur's favourite, pieces of Union Jack scattered across the floor.

'ALFRED!' Arthur roared, and within minuted appeared the man in question, blonde hair as messy as ever, clutching a badly bandaged, bleeding left hand.

'Why did you break my cups?' he said, more calmly, yet it was enough to send a chill down anyone's spine.

'Uh…' Alfred didn't have a response. Why _did_ he break the cups? Was it out of rage? A terrible prank?

'Answer me, Alfred!' Arthur said, louder this time.

'I-I don't know, dude,' Alfred said, backing away slightly and holding up his hands in peace, the poorly wrapped bandage falling off his bleeding hand.

Arthur finally noticed how bad said hand was bleeding and his eyes softened slightly. 'Come here, I'll put a new bandage on it,' he said, reaching out for his hand, 'but don't think for a second that I will let you off easy for this, alright?'

Alfred nodded, Nantucket bobbing with his head movements. 'Thanks, Artie,' he said wholeheartedly, allowing Arthur to take his hand and look at it, before he went to another cupboard and pulled out a bandage and gently yet firmly wrapped it around his hand.

Months after the tea cup incident, Alfred was waiting for Arthur to come home from his Christmas shopping trip. He remembered Arthur's reaction to him wanting to move out and how angry he was, and Alfred decided that if he couldn't have what he wanted, neither could Arthur. He stood up and strode to the kitchen, and grabbed every box of tea he could see, before making his way to the bathroom. There, he ceremoniously threw every single tea leaf, every single tea bag, and every single tea anything into the toilet and triumphantly flushed, and at that exact moment Arthur came in the front door carrying multiple bags of shopping.

'Alfred, can you please put on the kettle and make some tea?' he asked tiredly.

'We don't have any,' Alfred replied simply.

Green eyes widened slightly. 'What do you mean?' he asked, concerned.

'We don't have any tea, dude,' he repeated, 'if I can't have what I want, you can't have what you want. I'm sorry, dude.'

'What?!' Arthur was panicking and angry now. "Alfred, did you-'

'I flushed it,' Alfred said.

'Why?'

'Like I said, I can't have what I want, you can't have what you want.'

Arthur sighed and placed his head into his now-empty hands.

More months passed and winter rolled into spring, and spring into summer, and Arthur was cleaning the house when he realised he had not seen Alfred all day.

'Alfred?' he called, expecting a 'yeah, dude?' from somewhere in the house. 'Alfred?'

Worried, he quickly walked to Alfred's room and, after receiving no answer from a knock, opened the door.

What he found were blank shelves, blank walls, a stripped bed and, on it, a letter, Struck with disbelief, he walked to the bed, sat down, and read the letter.

"Artie, dude,

It's me, Alfred. I'm sorry. I found a place after the tea thing, and if you're reading this today, I moved out this morning. Don't worry about me, I want to see the world and do so much, and I promise I will not leave you forever, so don't think I'll forget you, ya big grump.

-Alfred F. Jones

P.S. The 'F' stands for freedom."

Tears leaked from Arthur's green orbs and splashed onto the page, slightly smearing the ink. He looked to the date, which read '4 July'.

'Artie, dude, you're here!

Arthur had forgotten just how strong Alfred's hugs were, and a couple of years after July 4, Arthur had finally gained the courage to visit Alfred, who by that time had a comfortable job in politics and had already been to Canada and France.

'You haven't changed a bit, Alfred,' he said, laughing gently.

'Oh, dude, I have to show you this place I found,' Alfred said excitedly, pulling the door shut as he led Arthur to his car.

'Really?' was all he could say.

'Alfred nodded, Nantucket still bobbing. 'Yeah, it has all kinds of teas, and they're organic, fancy people teas so I know you will like them.'

Arthur smiled. 'That does sound nice,' he said as he climbed into the SUV, while Alfred climbed into the driver's side, a new chapter of both their lives including each other opening up.

**Welp that was my attempt. My teacher loved it, by the way. If you have any feedback, please leave a review or send me a message. Thank you **


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